Epilogue
One Year Later
The roar hit me first. It wasn’t the polite clap of a theater audience; it was a hungry riot of a crowd ready to watch adrenaline surge for two hours. The announcer’s voice was booming, letting the crowd know the rodeo was going to start in five minutes.
I had made it just in time.
My crisp white cowboy boots were clicking in the dark tunnel, practically running toward the arena.
“No, I’m telling you, Thompson, you’re going to want to be the main NFR sponsor every year!” I shouted into my phone, trying to hear him over the sound of 17,000 anxious rodeo fans. “Agri-Corp stock has skyrocketed in the past two days!”
“Legra, I’ve told you a million times,” he said grumpily. “I don’t care what you do with my budget, just call me if there are problems! Now, would you please let me enjoy the show?”
I smiled. “Yes, sir.”
I exited the tunnel as he hung up. He was more than happy to take the two free tickets I had secured at the last minute as long as I didn’t bother him about any more “marketing jumbo.”
Of course, I bothered him with more “marketing jumbo,” it was my job.
It had taken a lot of convincing from Mr. Sterling and the board for me to move to Oklahoma.
I had convinced them I could just as easily run my Agri-Corp campaign from the ranch in Oklahoma rather than the Chicago skyscraper. I told them I needed to be closer to the dirt, to get “down and dirty” within the company, to make sure our clients felt the authenticity.
What can I say? I’m really good at marketing, even if it means marketing myself.
I bought a little cottage a mile down the road from the Nash ranch and spent my time off riding horses with Colton, traveling the country for his rodeos, and being a part of the family.
I was right, though. Agri-Corp was now the nation’s number one agricultural equipment dealer in just one year of me being on their team.
Unfortunately, it meant I was on a plane to Chicago once a month to give a short presentation to the board to prove it was going well.
It was going so well that Agri-Corp didn’t need me anymore.
That was okay. I was in the middle of sorting through dozens of companies that were ready to hire me for their businesses.
I was in no rush for my next assignment.
I tucked my phone in the pocket of my Wranglers, flashing my all-access badge at the guard as I reached the edge of the arena.
The smell hit me–expensive leather, popcorn, rosin, dirt–and, it didn’t make my throat tighten in fear anymore.
It felt like home.
I looked toward the chutes.
Colton was there, buckling his chaps around his belt.
The bruises were long gone, now replaced with a tan earned from long afternoons on the ranch and the lean muscle of a man who had fought through twelve months of grueling physical therapy.
He was wearing the most expensive protective rodeo vest on the market. A custom, carbon-fiber piece that I had personally vetted with three different trauma surgeons. It was sleek, professional, and looked like armor.
He looked up, catching my eye. His face broke into the lopsided Nash smile that still made my heart do backflips. “Cuttin’ it close, darlin’,” he yelled over the crowd.
I jogged toward him, throwing my arms around his neck.
He caught my back and pressed his lips onto mine. “You look unbelievably sexy in that hat.”
I reached up to tap the brim of my white felt cowboy hat. Nothing had made me feel more comfortable in my life. “Thanks,” I said, pressing another dozen kisses on his face.
Colton was wearing my dad’s pearl snap, making me swell with pride. “I’ll see you after the ride?”
I nodded. “After you’re the best bareback rider in the world.”
“Damn straight!”
“You’ve got this,” I said with absolute certainty.
He grinned, nodding with me. “I couldn’t have made it here without you, Ally. Truly.”
I tossed my hair over my shoulder. “What can I say?”
He chuckled but shook his head. “I’m serious! Thank you for stickin’ by me through my recovery, through this season. I’m here today because of your support.”
After I finally let go and started trusting Colton could do this, watching him ride was a lot of fun. He had dominated this season, shattered records, and surprised no one when he qualified for the NFR for the second year in a row.
This year, he would finally get to ride in the finals.
“You can get all sappy and give me the credit after we win! I love you,” I said, not able to wipe the grin off my face. “Now, get on that horse!”
“Love you, cowgirl!” He kissed his glove and waved toward me as I ran back behind the fence.
I caught the eye of the entire Nash family, the boys, their wives, the kids that seemed to be vibrating with energy, and of course, Jo and Dennis.
They all waved excitedly.
I waved back, grinning like a chimp.
Colton’s family hadn’t gone a single day without treating me like their blood.
Dennis and I had grown close over the past year, between me living a block away from their ranch and being Agri-Corp’s marketing director, it was hard not to.
Jo made sure I knew I was loved, feeding me home-cooked meals, throwing a party on my birthday, and making up for the decades I’d had without a mother.
The boys teased me as a sibling, and the girls treated me like a best friend.
Martha and her husband, Jeff, sat beside them, shoving popcorn in their mouths, oblivious to me waving at them.
I had a big family that treated me like their own, a boy who loved me as much as I loved him, and I had finally let go of the past.
I had everything I could ever need.
“Ladies and Gentlemen!” The announcer’s voice shook the rafters.
“Please welcome back to the arena... the man who proved that you can’t keep a good cowboy down.
Returning to the dirt after a year away.
.. COLTON NASH! He’s climbing on the horse known as Trigger.
We’re about to see if Trigger can live up to his name and shoot this cowboy into the dust! ”
Colton jammed his gloved hand under the rigging, the leather groaning under the pressure. He squeezed his palm tight, forcing the blood out of his hand until his grip felt like iron. Beside him, twelve hundred pounds of “Trigger” slammed into the metal rails.
The horse wasn’t just anxious; he was a riot in a box.
The 17,000 people in the arena went absolutely ballistic. The noise was a physical force, vibrating in my bones.
I leaned against the metal railing, my eyes fixed on the man in the chute.
He settled onto the back of a massive, heaving bronc, reached down to check his rigging, and then looked back at me one last time. He gave a sharp, confident nod.
The latch clicked. The gate swung wide.
And as Colton Nash exploded into the light, I didn’t look away. I didn’t close my eyes. I watched every single second.
Because he was right.
The ride was everything, and he was more than worth the fall.
The End.